A House Divided
by EsaEnai
Summary: Sequel to "Into the Fire." The Fellowship has fallen. Lives have been lost, and Sauron's forces threaten to consume the world. Well, then it's a good thing the Doctor's here, isn't it? And this time, he's brought friends... DocWho/LOTR Crossover. 10/Rose. Jack/AnythingThatMoves.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Strap in and secure all loose belongings; it's going to be a bumpy ride. Please subscribe and review. If you haven't read my previous story "Into the Fire"… I don't know why you'd be here, but go ahead and check that out first.**

* * *

Aragorn used to consider himself a logical man. A man ruled by what was possible, and what was not. He had never bothered to consider what lay beyond his world. After all, who had the time? His world consisted on duplicity and danger, and every day he lived a life that demanded his full attention. He couldn't afford to gaze into the night sky when he was face-to-face with another creature, thirsty for his blood. Didn't have the time to dream about "beyond" when a war was at his doorstep.

Until the Doctor collapsed in front of him on that hillside. Because ever since then, Aragorn was beginning to notice a few changes.

The stars had always been part of the scenery; like the trees or the brush, just another thing for his eyes to slide by without notice. Looking, but never seeing. But now… after that story…

He had gotten no sleep last night. Oh, he had tried. It wasn't as though the halls of Lorien weren't comfortable, nor his room. But every time he closed his eyes, disturbing new thoughts would swim into his mind.

Middle Earth, in all its greatness, was on a _planet_; a ball spinning through nothingness, if what the Doctor had told Merry and Pippin was true. (He couldn't help but eavesdrop on their questions, and couldn't pull away even when his head began to hurt.) What was _nothingness_? How could there be anything holding them down if they were surrounded by nothing?

And other worlds… other _planets_ were out in the nothingness as well. Far enough away to appear as winking lights in the night sky. The stars were _worlds_. Maybe not all of them, but enough to make his skin crawl. How many? Which ones?

After hours of lying still, drowning in thoughts, Aragorn had thrown himself out of bed and walked. It didn't matter where; all that mattered was doing something that he understood.

He ended up perched in the crown of a tree, swaying back and forth with the wind. The elves, to their credit, did nothing but watch him. As though they were afraid he would run. After a while, they began to sing a low, keening song that dragged his eyelids down. He refused to give in, roughly shaking his head to keep himself awake. The rest of the night was spent staring up at the stars, feeling the tree bark under his hands and the breeze on his cheek. Holding tight to physical things; things he knew.

In short, Aragorn was experiencing the same feeling every modern-day human had felt every now and then: the relativity of size. The moment when your brain presents itself with the minuteness of your own universal importance.

For the first time in his life, Aragorn was feeling very, very, _very _small.

He had climbed down when the sun began to peek shyly over the treetops, ignoring the feeling that the fading stars were watching him. Had pushed himself to focus on the problem at hand- namely, the army of monsters attacking them. But after Boromir had breathed his last, after watching the light fade from an ally's eyes… the thoughts returned.

Boromir was larger than life, full of vitality. He seemed invincible. And then, he was gone. Snuffed out with as much respect as a candle. And for what? Rose and the Hobbits; gone. Frodo and Sam spirited away by the Doctor.

Aragorn was grateful when Gimli and Legolas spoke up. Tracking orcs was something he could handle, something that required all his attention. A distraction that would have deafened the questions brewing beneath the surface. He was finally back in control.

And then the sky opened and belched out a man in a coat, and Aragorn simply sacrificed any chance of understanding what was happening.

The Doctor supported the new figure, leading him out of the lake. The three men on the shore watched them warily, and Aragorn risked looking away from this new visitor for a moment in order to comfort his party. Sure enough, Legolas had drawn his bow and Gimli was gripping his axe tight enough to break his knuckles. Aragorn raised a hand. "Put them away, gentlemen."

Gimli looked at him incredulously. "The sky- the very sky!- just tore and a man fell through. Why, in the name of Eru, would we _put them away_?"

Legolas, however, lowered his bow. "Lower your axe, dwarf," he said shortly. "Listen to Aragorn. We must trust the Doctor."

"'Dwarf,' indeed!" Gimli huffed. "Must you try so hard to prove your faith? Remember- _I_ was not the one in favor of _killing him_."

Legolas shot Gimli a dark look, guilt playing at the edges of his face. Aragorn stepped back slightly, getting in between them. "Gimli," he commanded. With only a few irritated mutters, Gimli lowered his weapon.

Meanwhile, the Doctor and his charge were just sloshing onto the shore. Aragorn was struck immediately at the expression on the Doctor's face. It reminded him of a time when he had happened upon an injured soldier, bleeding heavily from a gash in his thigh. Healers had flocked around him, comforting him with false reassurances as they examined the cut. It was no use; anyone could see that the wound went clean through to the bone. There was no option but amputation; nothing else was possible out in the field.

Aragorn had clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder, and the look he received in return stayed with him. It was a look of dread, but also of acceptance. The look of a man who realized what would happen next would be horrible to go through, but was necessary.

It was the same look the Doctor wore now.

As he squished out of the lake, the Doctor gave them a comforting smile. Aragorn didn't smile back; he was watching the way the Doctor was holding the other man's body away from his own. Like it hurt to touch him.

"Gentlemen," the Doctor announced. "May I introduce you to Captain Jack Harkness?"

The three men looked from him to the new figure. "Who is this?" Gimli demanded.

The Doctor smirked, tilting his head to the side. "At this point, he's the best hope we have to win."

They looked back to Jack. His coat was tattered and worn, and currently streaming rivulets of water onto the ground. His head was thrown to the side at what must have been an uncomfortable angle, his face was pale and drawn, and his eyes were threatening to roll back in his sockets. Despite this, he managed to grin at them, only pausing to spit out a bit of stray lake-water.

"Is this a joke?" Legolas asked eventually. Jack looked at him with new eyes, pushing the Doctor away and struggling to stand upright. He stepped forward in a pitiful attempt at a swagger. The three men drew together defensively.

Oddly enough, Aragorn found himself looking more intently at Captain Jack Harkness, and had to strain himself not to smile back. An odd heady feeling was suddenly upon him, but he was ignored as Jack focused his energy on Legolas.

"Hello," Jack said, winking. "And you are?"

Legolas blinked at him. "Legolas Greenleaf. Prince of the Woodland Realm," he said hesitantly.

Jack beamed, despite his legs beginning to shake. "Well, it is my deepest pleasure to meet you, Your Highness." Before anyone else could react, he grabbed Legolas' hand in his soggy one and raised it to his lips.

The Doctor scowled. "Jack- I can't believe I have to say this, but now is not the time."

Legolas stared, stunned, at Jack. "I don't…"

"Mind? Yes, you do. Can't you help yourself at all?" the Doctor demanded.

Jack spun around, confused, and stared at the Doctor. "Do I know you?" He turned back to Legolas, trying to smile. "Love the ears. Kinky."

That was when he collapsed, legs giving way, and ended up in a lump on the ground. They stared at him in shock. The Doctor hesitated, before rushing over and crouching near him. Aragorn felt the odd feeling in his head lift, and shook his head violently to dispel the lasts of it. Gimli, meanwhile, was shaking himself. Legolas looked like he had just been smacked between the eyes. The Doctor looked up for a brief second, then back down.

"Right. Sorry about that- 51st Century pheromones. You can buy them as cologne where he's from. They've got a knack of… well, _lowering boundaries_." He smirked at Jack. "Strong stuff, innit? Didn't even wash off…"

Aragorn managed to push down the uprising tide of questions, kneeling next to Jack and trying hard not to breathe in. "Is he alright?"

The Doctor's fingers twitched, and he shook his head. "No. He's not. Vortex-travel is hell on the human body without a ship. And we've just dragged him through more time and space than few have ever gone before. Soft tissues collapsing, organs failing under the strain. Like inflating and deflating a balloon one hundred times fast." The Doctor raised his eyes to find Aragorn staring blankly at him. "In short? He's dying."

"_Dying?"_ Legolas asked, sounding almost frantic. He quickly adjusted his posture and lowered his voice. "Dying?"

"What can we do?" Aragorn asked, running through any and all remedies for… whatever this man was suffering from. As he spoke, Jack coughed wetly, and blood shown on his lips.

"Nothing," the Doctor said simply. "We do nothing." The other four looked at him, alarmed. Jack wheezed out an attempt at speech, but violently coughed instead.

"Nothing?" Gimli said finally, outraged. "We sit and wait for him to die in front of us?"

The Doctor considered the question, and responded with a thoughtful: "Yes."

Jack was staring at him in full now, as though seeing him for the first time. "You…"

Aragorn shook off the hysterical questions below the surface. A man was dying, and the Doctor wouldn't help. "Don't speak." Jack nodded, then exploded into a frenzy of hoarse coughing that bent him double. Blood dripped from his mouth. But his eyes never left the Doctor, who had settled down onto a nearby rock to wait.

"_You…"_

The Doctor gave Jack a long look. "Hello, again."

Jack gaped at him. His eyes, before so charmingly dazed, were steel-sharp. _"You left me."_

The Doctor winced. "I'm so sorry, Jack."

With that, Captain Jack Harkness slumped to the ground, took one last shaky breath, and died.

* * *

A sailboat. In the middle of the ocean, rocking comfortingly back and forth. Rose tilted her head back, enjoying the feeling of the sun on her face. It was so quiet; no noise except the rushing of the waves.

She stretched, opening her eyes and grinning at the other passengers. Jackie, curled up beneath a blanket next to her. Mickey at the helm, dark and beautiful in the sun. Jack, dangling a hand over the side.

And there, sharing a seat with her, was the Doctor. Which one? She thought it was the Old Doctor, all long angles and big ears. But as he smiled she saw the New One. His hair was blowing in the wind, and he winked at her.

All the people she loved. Together. Safe. Rose sighed and rested her head on the Doctor's shoulder. Peace. At last.

Except…

"_Miss Rose!"_

Rose's eyes opened. She turned to find Jackie looking at her pleadingly. _"Miss Rose!"_ she echoed, and now Mickey was taking up the call. Then Jack. _"Miss Rose!"_

Confused, she looked up at the sky. The sun had gone. A whirlwind of dark clouds and salty spray rocked the boat violently, and she clung to the Doctor's coat in terror.

"_Miss Rose! Wake up!"_

She tried to yell to the Doctor to save them, but the wind ripped the words from her lips. He merely stared at her, uncomprehendingly. And then, he started to dissolve. The Doctor became nothing more than dust, blowing away in the wind. And in her horror, she saw the rest of them vanishing too.

Rose was alone, in a storm. Forever.

"_Miss Rose! Please wake UP!"_

Rose's eyes snapped open, immediately swallowing a scream even as it hit her throat. The boat was gone. One nightmare replaced another.

_Orcs._ Everywhere she looked, their craggy outlines lumbered past and snarled at each other. She tried her best not to shake, at once understanding that no one knew she was awake yet. Rose took a deep breath, taking in the situation.

She had been captured by orcs. The Doctor was gone. Her hands were tied. She had been thrown into the back of a cart that was lumbering along. She had no weapons.

Life had been better.

"Miss Rose," a voice hissed, and she managed to turn her head and see Pippin looking at her, alarmed. He was lying close by, bruises dotting his face, but he seemed to relax minutely upon seeing her move. "You're awake," he breathed in relief. His panicked expression returned quickly. "Merry isn't movin'."

Rose turned to find Merry unconscious next to her. The Hobbit was still, and a nasty gash colored his forehead. But his chest was moving steadily up and down, and Rose inwardly sighed. "Is he…" Pippin asked, horrified.

"He's just knocked out," she assured him. "He's fine." Pippin relaxed further. After a moment, he spoke again.

"D'you think they're comin' to get us?"

Rose felt her stomach sink, but tried to look confident. "Of course they are. Except…" she tried to word it delicately. "Let's give them some help."

"Like what?" Pippin hissed.

"Leave them a clue." She jerked her chin at Pippin's cloak clasp.

He looked down, and immediately began gnawing at it. After working it off, he began inching towards her. The angle they were lying meant she was closest to the edge of the cart, and he rested the broach on the straw near her bound hands. She managed to grab it and rolled over, back to him and arms almost dangling off the end of the wagon. She squeezed her eyes closed in case orcs were behind them, but luckily no one seemed to be paying any attention. With all the hope she had, she raised the leaf-shaped clasp to her mouth and kissed it.

_Please._

Then, quickly, she shoved the clasp through the back slats of the wagon. They lay in silence, and to their relief no one put out an alarm. The two of them lay quietly, not facing each other. Rose listened to Merry's shallow breathing and some snuffling sounds that must have been Pippin's muffled crying. She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat, and repeated her prayer to anything listening.

_Please._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Holy crap. Maybe it's just because I've never done a sequel before, but this many follows and reviews for ONE CHAPTER… it's making my head spin. So… thanks, kids. Writing as Jack was hysterically fun; hope it's just as enjoyable to read, but criticism is always welcome. **

* * *

Jack had an interesting relationship with death.

He'd been killed countless times, now. From his travels with the Doctor to Torchwood, Captain Jack Harkness just seemed to be a magnet for anything vaguely lethal and pointy. Innuendo always intended. One would think he'd be used to it. In a way, one would be right. But then, one would also be neglecting to consider what happens after, wouldn't one?

In some ways, it had become terrifyingly normal for Jack to feel himself die. It was actually shockingly simple. No flashing lights, no nostalgic scenes of his childhood, not even an "icy cold hand of something-or-other" to beckon him to the afterlife. Just… gone.

That was a small comfort, he later realized. When… _if_… he truly died, at least he knew it would be simple. Like turning off a television. _Boop._ Done.

But in other ways, death would never come easy for Jack. Actually, to nitpick, it wasn't death. It was _un_-death.

He'd been asked to explain what it felt like to come back from the dead, and couldn't never give an adequate answer. The closest he'd ever come was being dragged over broken glass. But even that couldn't bring to mind the agony of it. To feel your body wrench itself into a state that no human should/would/could ever hope to be in. He had a newfound respect for newborns. Arriving into the world was _hard_.

At least the whole "broken glass" thing faded quickly; it was usually gone by the time he opened his eyes. The part that lingered was the deep pains in his chest as his heart and lungs struggled back into motion; the ache in his limbs as his cells reversed the process of death. And most of all, the fiberglass-itch in his lungs as breath pushed its way in.

Speaking of which…

…_all I will stand! Only two kinds of men would drag a man across the world only to stand idly by while he dies. A madman and a monster!_

_Aragorn, take a deep breath._

Oh, hell. His hearing was coming back. Brain functions, nice of you to join the party. How's the wife and kids? Soon to come, he was sure.

_Just give him a moment. He'll be alright._

_I'm giving you exactly one. Explain! NOW!_

…And here was touch. He was lying down. It was wet and he was cold. Two of his least favorite things. The tingling in his chest told him of what was about to happen.

_I'm warning you! EXPLAIN!_

_Give him a minute, and he can do it himself!_

The tingling was turning into a slow burn. His lungs were on fire. Well, so long oblivion. Nice while it lasted.

_EXPLAIN!_

Here we go…

_NOW!_

With a spine-wracking, guttural gasp, air shot into Jack's lungs. His heart exploded into a rapid staccato beat, and his eyes shot open. Unfocused, all they saw were vague, shadowy forms that wielded streams of silver light. Instinctually his arms shot out, flailing away in panic.

He was alive. Again.

"_Jack!" _Something had caught him, and was holding him steady. Jack's heart was hammering in his ears and his chest was imploding on itself, but his vision cleared. An unfamiliar face was only six inches from his, the owner holding him flush against a skinny chest. Jack managed to grin between gasps.

_Damn_, those cheekbones… And that hair…

The man smiled, with a twinge of… something. Something bad. "Welcome back, Jack."

Jack felt a coal of ice begin to burn in his stomach. He had heard his name pronounced in a number of ways. Laughter. Anger. In the best of times, as a breathy, orgasmic shriek. But only one person had ever spoken his name with such a distinct mixture of amusement and frustration.

Jack's smile slipped away. "Doctor…"

The Doctor's face dropped to an identical expression. "Hello."

And then he was on the ground again. Something had pushed the Doctor away and was leaning over him. A very attractive something, with a lovely blonde hair and striking eyes. "Are you alright?"

Jack smirked his best smirk. "Now that you're here, pretty eyes." The man's face, bless him, paled significantly, but he managed to help Jack sit up. Jack was treated to the sight of the scruffy man from earlier, currently gaping at him and holding a sword. Behind him was a short, rotund man with an impenetrable beard who was staring at Jack with a mixture of terror and awe.

Jack waved a hand at the two of them. "Hel_lo_, there."

"Don't start," the Doctor said automatically, and before Jack could protest his eyes snapped to the taller man. "I told you; he's perfectly fine. And frankly, if you're going to react like that _every_ time something happens that you don't understand… you'll give yourself a heart attack, understand? I'd either change my tune, or I wouldn't stick by me for long."

"Neither would I," Jack muttered, glaring daggers at the Doctor who either didn't hear him or was ignoring him beautifully.

"How…" the man with the sword was sputtering so hard, Jack was afraid his eyeballs would burst from his head. _"That man was dead!"_

"Yes," Jack and the Doctor said in tandem. As though they were equally confused what the question was.

"I do that," Jack explained as politely as he could. "And then, I get better."

Poor scruffy-man seemed to be having some sort of spasmodic attack. He began to pace back and forth, and with a sudden motion that made everyone flinch, plunged his sword into the ground. He lunged for the Doctor, holding him by the lapels of his long coat.

"_I have had enough!"_ the man shouted angrily, face flushing. "_Enough_ of talk I do not understand! _Enough_ tales of… o-of planets and space and nothingness! _Enough _of you expecting us all to follow blindly, like hunting dogs! When a dead man sits up and walks, _I HAVE HAD ENOUGH!"_ Scruffy-man shook the Doctor to punctuate each word. _"ENOUGH!"_

And suddenly the Doctor was in his arms and he was pulling him away, as the blonde and the dwarf did the same to scruffy-man. Jack felt a twinge of annoyance; why was he helping? At least some part of him was enjoying watching the Doctor get throttled.

"You have talked for hours, and yet never explained! Who are you? How do you do… all of this?" Aragorn seemed close to a breaking point, and the other two were having a hard time holding him back.

The Doctor shook him off quickly, holding out his hands to the man across from him. "Aragorn. Take a breath, please." Aragorn growled, struggling against his captors. The Doctor's hands dropped to his sides. "I'm not the one you're angry with."

Aragorn stared at him in disbelief. The Doctor continued, unabashed.

"You're _angry_ with the orcs. You're _angry _with Saruman. With the goblins. With Sauron. But me?" The Doctor shook his head. "You're not angry. You're _afraid_."

Aragorn's face dropped its snarl. Next to him, the blonde and the dwarf looked equally stunned. He Doctor nodded.

"You all are, all three of you. Because you don't understand. You can't understand how I do what I do, how I know what I know. How I conjure things from far distances. How I speak to monsters. How I brought this man back to life." He gestured at Jack, who was about to protest, but the look on the Doctor's face made him swallow his words.

"You're trying so hard to understand me that it's_ killing_ you. Its driving you insane, isn't it?" Aragorn and the others were silent. "You don't have science. Or space-time. You don't have the _means _to deal with this, don't you understand? And I don't have the time needed to give them to you." The Doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but we don't have time. I can't tell you. Not yet."

Aragorn slumped. The others loosened their grips, now unneeded. "So what would you have us do in the meantime?" Aragorn asked bitterly.

The Doctor's expression was pinched. "Trust me. That's all you need to do is just to trust me."

And this was when Jack snapped. "Trust you? Oh, wonderful advice. Fan_tas_tic, to quote an old friend. You're diabolical, aren't you?" He flung a hand at the three men, standing shocked. "Oh, they'll trust you. Just like I did. Because they have no other choice, do they? But then, that's what you do best. Show off how _amazing_ and _unbelievable_ you are, with all your little talents and quirks. Make people rely on you, make them trust you. Make them _love _you. Then let them down. Abandon them."

"How long?" he hissed at the Doctor, pushing himself to his feet despite the shakiness in his limbs. "How long before you leave them all, like you did me? Leave them trying to find you, with no explanation? Leave them with a curse? _How long?"_

The Doctor turned to look at him, and Jack wanted him to scream. To curse, to push him, to throw a punch. To do anything other than what he did.

The Doctor shook his head slowly, and said, "Oh, Jack."

_Oh, Jack._

Damn the bastard. Damn him to hell for pulling out the only two words that could possibly take the _years _of righteous anger in Jack's heart and replace it with pity. Pity for both of them at once. Because all at once, he saw the exhaustion. The exhaustion of a man who no matter what he did or how hard he pushed, couldn't escape his mistakes. Who helped others out of a lack of an ability to help himself. The same exhaustion Jack saw when he looked in the mirror.

Jack was right. The Doctor was _diabolical_.

"You…" he managed to say, pointing at him. "You owe me an explanation."

"And us," the dwarf put in.

Aragorn thankfully chose that moment to stand up, or else Jack believed they could still be standing there glaring at each other. "We must move. Now. Or Rose and the Hobbits are lost."

Jack blinked. _"Rose? _She's alive?_"_

The Doctor nodded. "And captured. By orcs."

"…You owe me two explanations. Or one very, _very_ long one."

"They have time on their side," Aragorn continued. "We have lost almost a day. We shall have to run. No stopping. As long as it takes."

"Or…" The Doctor interrupted, holding up a finger. He was beginning to grin- and at Jack, no less. "Oh, you _are_ clever, aren't you?" the Doctor murmured, a spark appearing in his eye. Jack cocked an eyebrow, but the Doctor was beginning to babble. "My 'little talents and quirks' may save us yet, Jack Harkness! Just wait!" He slapped a companionable hand onto Jack's shoulder and raced off towards the lake.

Jack turned, offering a grin to the three men. "We haven't been properly introduced. Captain Ja-"

"What is he doing?" Aragorn interrupted, watching the Doctor as he began to clamber up a rock near the water. Jack scowled.

"My guess is showing off. How would I know?"

"Are you not friends?" Legolas asked in surprise.

Jack managed to grin and wink at him. "We're companions. No… well, we _were_. It's… complicated."

Before anyone could explain, the Doctor cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed forth a horrifying mixture of shrieks and grunts. It sounded rather like a live pig being torn in half, and the three men winced. Jack, however, was versed enough on his Helioant and Omnimantis to hear it for what it was.

A call for help.

In a moment, the ground began to rumble. And then, from the depths rose a monster, all squirming tentacles and smooth, green skin. Jack lunged backwards. "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!"

"A friend of the Doctor's," Aragorn said calmly. Jack stared at him, and the prince tried to smile, failing miserably. "It is… complicated."

"It always is, with him," Jack muttered, setting off after the Doctor who was holding up a hand to touch an outstretched tentacle.

"_HELLO, FRIEND-DOCTOR_," the monster was grumbling out.

The Doctor grinned. _"Hello, Friend-Watcher,"_ he replied. Jack reached him, panting and gazing up at the giant form in front of them.

"Friend of yours?" Jack raised a hand in greeting. _"Hello, there. Jack. Name?"_

"Don't start," the Doctor told him in English.

"_DON'T MIND,"_ the Watcher burbled, and Jack burst out laughing. He still had it.

"_Friend-Watcher,"_ the Doctor said, _"Need help."_

"_HELP?"_

"_Remember little men?"_

The Watcher blinked. _"YES. AND MATE."_

Jack jerked backwards in surprise. "Mate? Doctor- _mate?!"_

"Not now, Jack."

Jack lay a hand over his heart. "Doctor- I'm _hurt_."

"Not _now_, Jack!" The Doctor's cheeks flushed. _"Friend-Watcher; all taken. Taken by orcs_." The Watcher made a low growl. _"Where orcs?"_

"_NOT KNOW,"_ the Watcher rumbled. _"BUT LOUD NOISES GOING EAST."_

"_What is east?"_

"_BAD. NO PLACE TO HIDE. FIRE HEATING THE DEEP WATER. NO HOME IN THE EAST."_

"Doctor!" Aragorn's eyes were narrowed in impatience.

"Our friend has heard loud noises heading east," the Doctor called to him. "Ideas?"

"The east?" Aragorn's eyes narrowed. "East of us is Rohan, and…" Understanding dawned on them all.

"Isengard," Legolas said.

"Saruman," Gimli nodded, scowling.

"Then we go too," the Doctor said. He turned back to the waiting Watcher. _"How far from big noise?"_

"_THREE DAYS."_

"We have a three-day walk, as the crow flies," the Doctor announced. "But then, we don't have the advantages of our friend here; he can travel under the ground, in the water channels."

"We shall set a course near Riddermark," Aragorn said. "The horse-lords of Rohan may offer us help; but if not, they likely won't harm us. The road will be long, but…" he grudgingly nodded towards the Doctor. "We will have time to rest. My thanks."

"And mine," Gimli nodded. "After all; dwarves thrive in short sprints. Long distances wear on us. I would be of no use." Legolas rolled his eyes discreetly.

As the three trackers prepared to move, the Doctor offered a smile to the Watcher. _"Again, my thanks."_

The Watcher burbled happily. _"GOOD-BYE, FRIEND-DOCTOR. FRIEND-JACK."_

"_Good-bye, Friend-Watcher,"_ the Doctor nodded, and Jack waved slightly. And then the monster was gone, slunk below the surface of the lake. His dark outline made its way from the shore, towards the deeper water and the channels where he resided.

"Three days," Jack echoed. "Perfect."

"Oh?" The Doctor didn't seem to want to look at him.

Jack's smile slipped slightly, but he managed to sound upbeat. "Sure. Plenty of time to talk."

The Doctor chuckled humorlessly. "I'm about to spend my time walking with no food or water for days on end, spending my free time explaining the basics of science to an elf, a dwarf, and a prince to keep them from killing me. Forgive me if I'm not good company."

With that he left, walking quickly to join the others and leaving Jack in the dust as they began to run. Jack grimaced, jogging after them.

"Nice to see you too, Doc."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: As always, I appreciate any constructive criticism. Thanks to all who follow and review. Also: I possess nothing from either of these fandoms. Silly gooses. Geese?... gooses. **

* * *

Right, left. Right, left.

Jack huffed out a hard breath, faltering slightly in his march. "I don't know what I've been told…" he chanted under his breath. From ahead of him came the sound of laughter.

"Oh, come on, Jack!" The Doctor chuckled, and damn him if even _he_ didn't sound a bit winded. He even had the audacity to turn on the spot, jogging backwards and watching Jack struggle up the hill behind him. "Haven't you always said you wanted a vacation in the countryside?"

The Doctor waved a hand at the lush area around them. All trees and grass, rocks and shrubs. No civilization for miles. No cities. No bars. Not even a measly brothel.

"Think that's you," Jack managed to choke out. "More of a city-boy, myself. Anyway, Doc…" He paused to take a few gasping breaths. "Wasn't the purpose of the whole conversation with Squiddy to avoid this lovely little hike through the countryside?"

"Of course," the Doctor shrugged, turning to face front. "Why do you think this trip has been so easy-going? If not for the Watcher, we'd be following the orcs, rather than simply heading for Isengard."

"_Easy-going?"_

"Can you imagine?" the Doctor continued, raising his voice just loud enough for the three in front of him to overhear. "Running for days straight with no hope of catching up? Maddening. Much easier to go as the crow flies, rather than as the… orc runs…"

"I'm sorry- _easy-going?!"_

The Doctor aimed a grin back at Jack. "We've stopped occasionally, haven't we? You're welcome."

"_We've been at this for three days! I'm about to choke on my own lungs!"_

"Doctor; Captain." The two skidded to a halt at Aragorn's words, only now realizing where they were. The edge of a forest was spread in front of them, only a few miles down the steep hill they stood upon. The sun was creeping below the horizon, casting odd shadows over the only thing nearby: a large, hollow tree, perched oddly on the crest of the hill. Jack couldn't help but notice the resemblance to a human, with arms stretched out as through pleading for mercy.

"We shall stop here for the night," Aragorn said calmly, and the rest of the party collapsed to the ground in a grateful heap. All except Legolas, who merely rolled his shoulders and looked around.

"We shall need firewood," the elf commented. Jack sat up with a grin, rubbing his sore legs.

"Whatever you say. I'm jealous; I wish I was this rugged. This… _outdoorsy._" His grin widened. "Very impressive." Legolas blushed crimson, taking off at a run.

"Don't start," the Doctor told him yet again. And yet again, he shrugged back at him.

The two men lay in silence next to each other, and Jack felt the same odd feeling he had gotten for the last three days. The feeling that rose in his stomach whenever the banter stopped, and the air between them filled with tension. A feeling that reminded him of the early days, when things like flirting were still new and exciting rather than as common as breathing.

The feeling of anticipation.

Jack cleared his throat. "Doc… we need to talk."

The Doctor stood up, striding away quickly. He didn't look back.

* * *

"Captain… Captain Harkness." Jack muttered and rolled over, meeting a pair of nervous blue eyes. Legolas took a step backwards. "Sorry to wake you. It's your turn to take watch."

Jack managed to smirk behind his stifled yawn. "Care to stay up with me? Watch the stars? I give a mean backrub." He couldn't help but smile at Legolas' stricken expression. "I kid. Go to sleep, pretty-eyes. I got it."

Legolas nodded, and Jack could have sworn he saw a small grin as the elf turned and retreated to his bed. He grinned; he still had it.

Jack stood up, cracking his back and looking around. The group was quiet, with no noise other than the occasional odd, faraway groan to break the stillness of the night. He walked quietly to the roots of the tree, making himself comfortable and staring up at the stars.

It was ten minutes before he spoke again.

"You're not fooling me, you know. Care to join me?"

It was another minute before the Doctor rolled off his blanket and came to sit by Jack. The two of them stared up at the stars in silence; the night sky was filled with light.

"When did you sleep last?" Jack asked, half-jokingly. The Doctor blinked up at the stars, eyes wide.

"Almost a month ago."

Jack swallowed the scolding building up about how _even Time Lords needed beauty rest_, simply following the Doctor's gaze. "Ever get tired of looking at it?" Jack whispered.

The Doctor shook his head, slowly.

"Me neither."

Jack tried to formulate his next question carefully, but the Doctor beat him to it.

"How long have you known?"

Jack felt his stomach clench; there was no question as to what he was talking about. "Almost since the beginning. When you… when I went back to Earth, I ended up hitting a little earlier than intended, and I'll leave it at that. I was at Ellis Island. Someone shot me through the heart. And then, I woke up."

The Doctor nodded, but Jack wasn't finished. "And? How long have _you_ known?"

The Doctor stared at the sky. When he spoke, it was as quiet as the wind. Jack almost didn't hear him. "I always knew. I knew when I looked at Rose; poor girl, she was trying _so hard_ to help. I knew just by looking at you. I knew you were _wrong_."

"About what?"

The Doctor shook his head; he still didn't look down. "Just _wrong_. You shouldn't exist, Jack. You're a fixed point in time. An impossibility. A never-should. Even _looking _at you is like a knife in my chest."

"Is that why you won't look at me now?" Jack said.

The Doctor paused; he finally looked down. The expression in his eyes was unreadable. "No. I'm not looking at you now because when I look at you…" he trailed off.

Jack felt his anger start to grow. "What?" No response; the Doctor stared through him. "What? _What do you see?"_

"A mistake," the Doctor said quietly.

Jack was stunned_. A mistake._ He was a mistake? "Well," he managed to say. "And here I was expecting an apology…"

He made to stand up, but the Doctor gripped the sleeve of his coat. His eyes were wild. "Don't you see, Jack?" he hissed. "It's _my mistake_. Rose may have made you… but it was my fault. My fault. I ruined you. _I _made a fixed point, _me_. Another one. You… Gallifrey… ruined…"

And to his shock, Jack saw the Doctor's eyes water. "My fault… my fault…"

Of course he held him. Held him tight even as the Doctor unconsciously pushed away from him, trying to separate himself from his mistake. Ran a hand down his back as the Doctor muttered. "My fault… My fault…"

He didn't bother to protest; he knew he'd be shot down if he did. All he did was hold the Doctor, until he could feel the shaking in his back subside.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, _so_ sorry." The Doctor's voice was rough.

Jack knew that someday, he'd need to tell him the truth. Tell him about the pain he went through, the agony of knowing how alone he was. He'd need to tell him that he couldn't forgive him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

But Jack was still human- somewhat, anyway. And it was only human of him to do what he did next.

It was only human to lie. Because that was what the Doctor needed to hear.

"I forgive you."

There was a long silence. The Doctor sighed, and Jack felt him relax against him. He looked down after a moment, to find the Doctor slumped against his side, eyes closed. He breathed deeply, if shakily, and leaned his head on Jack's shoulder.

Jack felt a fleeting grin pass over his face as he scooted closer to the Doctor, allowing his head to rest more comfortably. Above them, a shooting star cut through the sky.

Yep. He still had it.

* * *

Right, left. Right, left. After three days, the swaying of the wagon was beginning to make her sick, helped none by the rancid smell of the straw under her. Rose shifted slightly to her left; their bonds had been removed hours ago. After all, they no longer knew where they were; what sense did it make to run? She continued to try to find a comfortable spot, stopping when Merry let out a low grunt. There was no room for her to move; nowhere to go.

She tried to focus on something, anything other than where she was. The last time she had seen her mum. The smile on Jack Harkness' face as they danced. The feeling of the Doctor's lips on her forehead.

_I'll be right back._

"Merry." It was the first thing either of the Hobbits had said, and she perked up her ears to listen. "Merry," Pippin continued in a whisper. "What's that noise?"

Noise? She tried to hear beyond the pounding feet. Something was groaning in the distance… something alive. Something angry.

"It's the trees," Merry whispered back. "My da' used to tell me stories… about Buckland. Somethin' in the water… making the trees come alive. But they were just tales… from home…"

There was a silence. "Home…" echoed Pippin. He sniffed.

_I'll be right back._

She puffed out a hard breath, blowing a strand of blonde hair from her face. She saw nothing, having squeezed her eyes shut; but the blackness was making her nausea grow. Even if there wasn't anything in her stomach to come up.

For the third time in the hour, Rose dared to open her eyes. And for the third time in an hour, she felt her stomach threaten to empty itself at what she saw.

_Orcs._ Craggy faces with beady eyes, currently glaring down at her. The closest one noticed her staring at him and let out a low, rumbling growl. She looked away hurriedly, trying to block out the sickening chuckles behind her.

"Just wait, little titch," a slimy voice muttered. Surprised at the first instance of recognizable speech she had heard from them in hours, Rose turned to find the same orc grinning at her. Tearing her eyes from the rotten meat between his teeth, Rose tried to keep her face impassive as she gazed up at her captor.

He let out another, crueler laugh. "Oh, brave one, are you?" he sneered. "Won't be so brave when we crack your skull." Her stomach fell to her shoes, but the orc kept going. He was obviously enjoying himself.

"I prefers skull m'self. But most of us… they aren't picky. Not 't all. Settle for an arm; a leg." He grinned again. "Whatever you got."

"Shut it!" a new, deeper voice barked, and a larger orc turned to glare at them. "You're making me _hungry_."

"Me too!" an unseen supporter called. "I've got to have some food. Somethin' other'n maggoty bread."

"I want some _meat_!"

With that, the entire company of orcs began to shout out throaty protests of their own, filing the air with a sudden rush of noise. The orc in front let out an irritated roar, waving them to a halt. "Fine, then!" he snarled. "Take your breather! But we ain't _got_ no meat!"

"Who says we ain't?" The orc next to her got a new expression on his face; something like what an alley cat will get when presented with a mouse. "I sees meat right here."

Jerking her arms hard enough to make her yelp, the orc grabbed her wrists and yanked her up from the cart. She dangled in the air, feet frantically pedaling the air. Behind her was a new sound; two frightened yelps. Merry and Pippin were being lifted up as well. The orcs howled with laughter- all except the leader.

"Put them down, NOW!" he roared. "They ain't for eating!"

"M'not saying we kill them," the orc protested, giving her a shake. "They don't need their legs. Or maybe an arm."

"And anyway," another orc piped up from the back. "Saruman said he wants a hobbit," he said, gesturing at Merry and Pippin. He aimed an ugly smile at Rose. "He never said nothing about a _girl_."

"Carve her up!" came the cry, and the group erupted into shouts.

"One quick mouthful's all I need!"

"Slice her open!"

Rose felt her arms start to tremble, and as the leader looked at her with appraising eyes she let out a short scream. But luckily while her body was panicking, her mind was beginning to whir. This Saruman didn't want her? Then she'd make it worth his while…

"Stop! Stop, if you know what's good for you!" she managed to call out. The orcs laughed, but Rose pressed on. "Unless you want Saruman asking why you… you cut open the most important prisoner you had!"

The laughter died down quickly, leaving an unnerving silence. Merry and Pippin were looking at her as though she had lost her mind. Maybe she had.

"What d'you mean, titch?" The orc who held her raised an eyebrow, and Rose started to speak, rushing and spewing out anything she could think of. Anything to keep herself alive.

"Hobbits? You want hobbits? They don't know anything about the war. About the Ring. But me…" she shook her head, trying hard to hide her terror. "I'm the compan… the _assistant _to a wizard. A powerful wizard."

"Which?" the leader barked out. "Grey? Brown?" The crowd around them pressed forward for a better look at her, and she swallowed hard.

"No… a new wizard. Called to fight. Smarter than them all. Braver too, and stronger." The orcs began to mutter, and Rose felt a sliver of hope. "And well, if you got rid of me… you'd lose him, wouldn't you?"

The leader barked out a laugh. "A _new_ wizard! Ain't no such thing!"

Rose gave him her best haughty look. "Fine. Don't believe me. Then see how happy Saruman is when he finds out you had a wizard practically in your hands and you let him slip by for a snack."

"Titch," her jailer sneered. "Where is your wizard now?"

"As though I'd tell you," she sneered back. "I want to talk to Saruman." She did? "In any case, if he was here, you'd already be dead."

"If your wizard was here, _he'd_ already be dead."

There was a short silence. "Well," Rose said calmly. "No one is dead. So you're lucky he isn't here."

The orcs went silent, and the leader's ears were practically steaming with the effort it was taking him to think this through. Finally, he spoke. "Let her go."

Rose's orc looked astonished, but he growled and dropped her to the ground. She hit hard, and coughed as the air shot from her lungs. Her orc was fuming, but he turned to the leader with a smile.

"Well," he said loud enough for them all to hear him. "If it's her we need…" He trailed off, but suddenly drew a sword and pointed it at the terrified hobbits. "Then I say we snacks on _them_!"

The leader met him even as he stepped; his arm moved too quickly to see much. A flash of iron. A sickening crunch. And then, a head slipped from the orc's shoulders and bounced to the ground. Rose let out a shriek, drowned out by the roar of the leader.

"There's your meat, boys!"

The orcs cheered, lunging for the body of their former comrade. Rose managed to pull her eyes from the dim ones in the head in front of her, noticing that Pippin and Merry had been dropped to the ground. The three of them looked at one another in amazement for a second. The next second, realization kicked in.

_Run._

They took off, crawling to keep low and out of sight. But as no one noticed them, they moved to a bended walk. To a run. The forest was so close… only a few hundred yards away. She could hear the groaning more clearly, now. They would…

No. They wouldn't.

Pippin let out a cry of panic, and she turned just in time to see a horse rear up in panic. Right over the hobbit's body. He held up his hands in a futile gesture, but the hooves pounded the air above his head.

Rose moved towards him quicker than she thought possible, but she was still too late to yank him out of harm's way. Someone else did it for her. An orc snatched him by the belt, holding him in the air with a gleeful howl. The horse's hooves hit the ground untouched, but still Pippin screamed as the orc roared in his face.

And then he was gone, and Rose saw he had unclasped his belt. Clever hobbit, indeed. Pippin hit the ground and rolled, joining the other two in their sprint.

Somehow, they made it to the forest. Somehow, they made it to the base of a large tree. The hobbits stood back-to-back, panting heavily. "Are they…?" Merry choked out.

Pippin nodded hesitantly. "I think they are."

Rose, meanwhile, was only just beginning to catch her breath before a greasy, meaty hand caught her by the arm and flung her to the ground. Merry and Pippin called her name in a panic, but she only had eyes for the orc standing over her.

"Where's your wizard, now?" chuckled the orc, raising his sword. It hung in the air, bright and wicked.

And then, suddenly, it didn't.

The orc looked almost as surprised as she did as it was squished to a pulp on the forest floor. Rose screamed, flailing as she was hoisted into the air for the second time that evening. She caught a passing glimpse of a dangling Merry and Pippin, before being hoisted up in front of the brightest yellow eyes she had ever seen.

The tree harrumphed.

"_Wizard?"_


End file.
